Incipit Vita Nova
by blackmarketmusic
Summary: With the return of the maniacal Katherine, Damon and Elena find themselves wrought in present dangers they scarcely imagined. Set directly after Founder's Day, the Season One Finale. Full summary inside. Please read and review!
1. Here Begins The New Life

**Title:** Incipit Vita Nova

**Chapter: **1/6

**Plot: **Damon considers how he became a vampire at the hands of the radiant and sinister Katherine and how he became indoctrinated, unwillingly, into the vampire way of life by his younger brother, Stefan. After centuries of carnage trying to retrieve Katherine from the tomb, only to discover she never cared; defining crucial moments mark the return of his humanity, such as his meeting with the exquisite Elena, who has a passion, will and intelligence that intrigues him. He falls in love with her, wanting not to hurt but to comfort her with the last breaths of humanity he has inside.

But, with the return of the maniacal Katherine, Damon and Elena find themselves wrought in present dangers they scarcely imagined.

Set directly after _Founder's Day_, the Season Two Finale.

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**Author's Note:**

**Okay, so this was never my intention to start yet another story when I'm already scrambling to update "Civil Twilight", but the summer is nearly here and I have much more free time, and besides, this plot has been eating away at me for a good long while. Luckily, I have this entire thing mapped out, and it is intended to be only 6 parts. This chapter is rather short, only be the exhibition of what is to come next. The others will be _much_ longer, I promise.**

**Thanks so much to Nat for previewing this and actually convincing me to start it! :)  
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Incipit Vita Nova

_In that part of the book of my memory before which little can be read, there is a heading, which says:__ 'Incipit Vita Nova: __Here begins the new life. Under that heading I find written the words that it is my intention to copy into this little book: and if not all, at least their essence._

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The rich irony of the entire situation was that when trying to explain to anyone the nature of "the switch" that came as part of the packaged deal when becoming a vampire, it was by no means meant metaphorically. The strange aspect was that it was, in the very literal sense, something a "creature of the night", as most of those middle aged professors who taught unusual and supernatural happenings as extra credit courses at any community college, something that one could feel inside. As if your very internal organs were the elaborate furnishings of an ornate bedroom, a switch by the door, the light shinning with feelings of every sort: love, lust, anger, and pride…. Any of the seven deadly sins or selfless acts untainted, and the dark, being the absence of any sort of conflicting emotions; and in one brief instant, you made a decision. The easier route, the more simple and logical choice, would be to take your thumb and forefinger, and pull down the tiny tab of the switch with one faint _pop_.

Damon's choice was not so much one that stemmed from personal gain, but from necessity. In order to rescue his long lost love, his creator, his lover, and who he believed was indeed his soul-mate; the task was much easier without having to be needled with any residual "feelings" that were left over from his life as a naïve young boy trying to rebel from daddy's tyrannical bidding. After all, several centuries' worth of carnage and violence and brutality, all building up to the moment in a dark and damp tomb of death where he discovered in actuality Katherine never even cared, spurred a domino effect that took the very nuts and bolts of the machine that held Damon's humanity, and dug it out from the very crevices of the moldy cogs where it had sat, neglected. Only in brief moments with _her_, the girl who had the rare ability to actually turn him down, who caught him in moments of a genuine smile, and who could actually bury him in any drinking game in the middle of hot and pesky Georgia, did little glimpses of it show, ready to ooze out. Luckily, being a master at self-restraint, Damon never had it go any farther.

Until tonight. Admittedly, it wasn't all Elena's doing, although she played a substantial part in it, she opened the floodgates. Capitalizing on his love for Stefan, his rival brother, his newfound friendship with ex-enemy and vampire hunter Alaric, and his attachment to the town that he had arrived home to with every intention of destroying, letting every pathetic human being in it know and feel the torment and loneliness that had plagued him for years, because, without the other, he was nothing.

And now that was indeed not true. Discovering Katherine's actual reality, that she was devoid of any sort of, well_, anything_ towards him, Damon was at a position where he was finding himself as _something_, that he didn't quite discover what it was just yet. But he knew that he would perhaps be just fine.

However, in the rather unfortunate turn of events, Damon found himself in the much-despised position of falling arduously for his brother's lover. Elena was now everything he aspired in a lot of ways to become, which was strange as she was so much younger than himself; an individual who had traveled the world and studied with scholars the likes of Plato and poet's with the tongue of Dante himself.

He admired her, he respected her, he was protective of her, and he indeed loved her. If love was part of the definition in which most nights he could not sleep worrying about her safety when Isobel was in town (Although when he slammed her deceitful and foolish body to the ground for ever threatening Elena, he think he made his point.), or when he found himself thinking of her for no specific reason at certain points during the day; but knowing which company she was in no doubt keeping (Despite that of his brothers at times could indeed be quite pleasant, he did no deny.), made him vehemently ill.

The moment on the porch, undeterred by Damon's constant trying to underplay it all, could not be ordinarily cracked up to a Freudian slip in judgment. Every word he spoke was the truth as always, but it had been the most bare he had ever dared to be in front of her. His impenetrable armor was down, although self-preservation was still present in all its excruciating clarity. Although, it did not hold solid ground; because Damon played on instinct, when Elena looked at him with what any man would have identified as "come hither" signals, he did what he believed she wanted him to do; he kissed her. And she allowed it to continue. Of course, it was undoubtedly her fault.

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"I love you, Stefan." She said it with as much carefree a voice as she could, when still trying to convey how deadly serious she was. Elena found Stefan's jealously over Damon rather foolish and unfounded, although perfectly understandable. It did not vex her, but indeed perplexed her as to how he could think she had fallen for his older brother in the way she had him. And, indeed, she had not. Damon was a friend; she felt for him, though she also cared for him with such a fierce fire, however, that it frightened her in its magnitude. (The latter part she, of course, decided to omit in her declaration of love for Stefan when disclosing her entirely innocent feelings towards Damon, she cracked up that fierce fire to being unimportant…. not really.) Entering the house, the key stuck in the door, and Elena yanked it free with one twist of her delicate wrist, putting it in her denim pants pocket, and calling for Jeremy as she felt the pleasant air conditioning of the house hit her face, relishing in it as she leaned against the banister of the staircase, recovering from the humidity of the outdoors.

"Jeremy?"

Elena was ready to make a second attempt at mending things with her brother, Stefan's pep talk at the grill after they discovered Damon had left without a word as per usual, of course helped, and Elena found a new found courage for another attempt at setting things right with her little brother.

A noise from the kitchen startled her, luckily Elena assumed Jeremy was in the kitchen for a late night snack, and that she would not have to trudge up the stairs with her worn out legs that had taken her all the way home from the pageant, as she had insisted Stefan take the car to the hospital, to check in on her friends, and fill her in before she could have the chance of showing up, hopefully with Jeremy in tow, if everything went well.

Walking towards the light shining of the linoleum counters, Elena let out a yelp as her limbs gave way from underneath her, and her leather boots made a _swoosh _sound followed by a _crack _as her tailbone hit the floor. Looking down where her legs were parted, Elena saw a trail of blood staining the hard wood that she was sprawled across; red speckles making a trail all the way to the kitchen.

Trying to control her breathing as her chest constricted voluntarily, Elena sat up and walked to the kitchen, to only be greeted with her very self as if she were in her bathroom, looking straight at the mirror; only this self was basked in sleek black leather and holding a steak knife as if she were directly out of a black and white Hollywood horror film; although that did not distract from the imposing and dominant being. And the eyes were soulless.

The being cocked its head to the side.

"I assume I need no introduction."

"_Katherine_?"

Katherine came up behind her, and as Elena's arms were taken behind her back, her wrists bent in a tangled heap against the curve of her waist, the flurry of panic that clouded her brain created a wringing and shrill piercing siren in her ears.

"In the flesh."

Elena managed to let out a scream before she was bludgeoned with such force; everything went black in a second.

And, several moments later, Damon, having heard Elena's desperate yell several yards from the house, slammed right through the locked door, cracking the hinges and splintering the wood as the frame of the entrance of the house now hung by only several shards of wood and several screws clinging to their hallow homes in the wall.

"No need for such melodrama Damon," Katherine stated as she held an unconscious Elena upright by the roots of her hair, "As I understand you have already been invited in, or you would not even be able to take a step further."

Damon froze where he stood. He had gone from standing at the precipice between heaven and hell after the moment on the porch, to a suspended state of disbelief and _fear_. Elena looked like a rag doll from a toyshop when being in Katherine's grip, limp and lifeless.

Recognizing his former lover's attire, Damon squeaked of several words as resolution dawned on him: "It was _you_."

Katherine smirked.

Damon felt like he was being suffocated, he was trying to breathe, but could not summon the usual rhythm of his lungs. Looking at Katherine in shock, he immediately registered the malice in her eyes, and then Damon glanced at Elena's blank face. It was one of his nightmares coming to a frightening fruition.

"What is your game? This isn't a simple social call, according to Pearl, you've known exactly where I've been for the past 20 odd years or so. Besides, I'm certain New York has a much more pleasant entourage that that of any residing in Mystic Falls." Damon found some fortitude return to him, trying to keep the intonation of his voice as level as possible so not to make known how incredibly susceptible he was.

"Well, now dear, that would spoil the whole shebang wouldn't it? I'm afraid I can't indulge you in any of pre-occupations until our delectable Stefan is present. But, that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun." At the end of Katherine's sentence, Elena's eyes slowly opened as she regained consciousness. Katherine's features perked up in amusement. "Right on time."

"Now," Her tone as commanding as it was chilling, Katherine took Elena's chin in her hand and situated her face onto Damon's form, and, after she discovered it was actually him only several feet away, Elena looked at Damon with a pleading in her eyes.

Wishing that he could simply assure her in some telepathic way, Damon just sent out the very thought comprised of the words he wished to say; _She will not harm you. I won't allow it. I love you and no pain will befall you when I am here._

But of course, he could not speak them out loud. So Elena would not hear them, she would not be reassured.

Katherine giggled. "Apparently this one's little kid brother is upstairs. I inspected him after I conveniently offed John in the kitchen about a half-hour ago. He's overdosed on sleeping pills and quite auspiciously has drunk a vial of vampire blood. I want you to turn him. And if you don't…." Katherine positioned her palms to encircle around Elena's throat; "_I snap her neck_."

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_To be continued...._

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Okay, okay so kind of an evil cliffhanger right? lmao**_

_**Please REVIEW and we'll see what I churn out next for the following chapter! ;)**  
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	2. Fiercely, In The Least Pulsation

**Title:** Incipit Vita Nova

**Chapter: **2/6

**Plot: **Damon considers how he became a vampire at the hands of the radiant and sinister Katherine and how he became indoctrinated, unwillingly, into the vampire way of life by his younger brother, Stefan. After centuries of carnage trying to retrieve Katherine from the tomb, only to discover she never cared; defining crucial moments mark the return of his humanity, such as his meeting with the exquisite Elena, who has a passion, will and intelligence that intrigues him. He falls in love with her, wanting not to hurt but to comfort her with the last breaths of humanity he has inside.

But, with the return of the maniacal Katherine, Damon and Elena find themselves wrought in present dangers they scarcely imagined.

Set directly after _Founder's Day_, the Season One Finale.

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**Author's Note: Okay, okay. I know I haven't updated in forevvvveeerrrrr but in all honesty this chapter was absolutely finished two weeks ago. But, the damned perfectionist in me had to just keep rewriting it, and rewriting it, and rewriting it until I came up with something that I was happy and content with that could carry the story to the next level, and help with the plan I have for this entire crazy continuation of the finale to go. If anything, this fic is just to help us poor Damon/Elena fans and Vampire Diaries fans in general to survive this_ painful _hiatus. So I hope you enjoy it and thanks to everyone for their incredible reviews! :)**

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_At that moment I say truly that the vital spirit, that which lives in the most secret chamber of the heart began to tremble so violently that I felt it fiercely in the least pulsation, and, trembling, it uttered these words: ' Ecce dues fortiot me, qui veniens dominabitur michi: Behold a god more powerful than I, who, coming, will rule over me.'_

_At that moment the animal spirit, that which lives in the high chamber to which all the spirits of the senses carry their perceptions, began to wonder deeply at it, and, speaking especially to the spirit of sight, spoke these words: 'Apparuit ian beatitudo vestra: Now your blessedness appears.' _

_At that moment the natural spirit, that which lives in the part where our food is delivered, began to weep, and weeping said these words: ' Heu miser, quia frequenter impeditus ero deinceps!: Oh misery, since I will often be troubled from now on!'_

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It had always frightened her, the way they were irreversible. Entering that house for the first time, the feeling of sunlight directly hitting the curve of her back, the phantom black crow flying fast past her shoulder through the open door, her feet tickled with the autumn leaves being blown unto the lush carpet from the outdoors, and turning around to be greeted at a thumbs length from her face, the most gorgeous vision of a man she had ever seen. Dressed in a violently dark purple, so much so that it most certainly seemed black, but being so close she could literally make out the fibers that constructed the fabric of his top…. It was most certainly a small crime that she would try in her own way to repent of latter, as Elena knew she should only have been thinking about the precious boy who had been courting her in all the right ways, dear Stefan.

And it was in those brief moments, resembling the first time she collided with _him_, that she always felt incredibly wicked despite the very way their encounters were always conducted, with a shield of innocence hovering over them, constricting every transgression (every touch and every daring look and every _dance_) as being that only between good friends. However, there was always a shade of underlying tension between them. Something forbidden and unspoken could never be. And it was when that was acknowledged, that she understood why Stefan could be so apprehensive of her and Damon's relationship. Elena could never hurt her lover, it would destroy her; so, she was confident that history would never repeat itself in the slightest.

However in Damon she found a companion, a kindred soul in which she could confide; and an untamed playboy in whose company she could experience a variation of wild abandon that had been absent in her life since her parents had passed on. Elena never new exactly how close they had gotten until she received the message that Damon was trapped inside the burning basement that evening, as she felt that with the very thought of loosing him, the air had been knocked out of her lungs. And she would panic at the abrupt thought that another reason _it_ hadn't gone any farther besides her inability to hurt Stefan, was Damon's armament.

That armament, which in this pandemonium with Katherine, was deteriorating rapidly. Damon's breathing was even, yet shallow. And, walking towards his ex-lover, now a dark assailant that held Elena in a death grip, his step was firm, yet somehow, his body leaned a bit to the side, as if he had to control himself from stumbling. Elena, in her haze, could easily see the cogitation behind Damon's eyes; he was trying to formulate a plan from scratch with only several seconds to spare. And this time, he could only come to one conclusion: _Fuck me._ And Elena knew, against Katherine, they were past a point of no return.

"It's time to make your decision Damon," the words trickled from Katherine's lips in that singsong voice that held a sickenly sweet menace, "this little simpleton dies, or you can make her baby brother like you and me; either way, I get what I want somehow or another."

Damon, know merely inches from the girls faces, looked at Katherine with such a ferocious glare that made Elena, in that passing second, more afraid of what Damon could do then what Katherine was threatening at the time.

"_Anything you want._ You won't touch her. Ever."

This wasn't a negotiation, it was an ultimatum.

"Done."

"Then I'll do what you want."

Katherine, after scanning Damon's face with those bottomless eyes trying to unravel, in her curiosity that stemmed from being completely drained of any human emotion, what _exactly _he felt for Elena. What risks would he undertake? What buttons could she push now?

However, there was time for all that, later.

"Yes, Damon. You _fucking _will."

In other words, _I have the power, accept it. _

With that, Katherine handed Elena to Damon, knowing that he understood who really had the foreground in the situation. Damon knew that if even tried to make a move to exit the house with Elena in his arms, he would be dead in an instant. He may have the intelligence and the strength, but for everything that could have played a part in his victory over Katherine, she eclipsed him. In comparison to her, Damon acknowledged that he was nothing more than a little boy. Hell, a_ toddler_. As with any vampire, looks were most definitely deceiving, as one could appear to be no more than twelve years old, but have the mind of someone who had lived and seen five centuries. And that's what Katherine had seen, a mass of years doubling, even tripling, Damon's own, of traveling and matriculating. Violence, brutality, death – it was all a crack in the greater scheme of things for her. Let the domino's fall where they may, she was the mistress, and Damon, inferior.

As he cradled a shaking Elena in his arms, Damon took his right hand to rest atop her head, as his fingers threaded their way through her long dark hair. As if by these simple acts, he could let her know the truth. That he was, without a hint of a doubt, madly and irrevocably in love with her, and probably had been since the first moment he saw her. But he knew, there was, without some morbid catch, a way out of the altercation with Katherine alive, in any manageable sense anyway. However, as it was, the closeness of Elena, the proximity of their bodies being aligned in such a way that her throat rested against his own and her chest against his own, the physical proof that she was actually there with him, soothed that silent rumbling and roiling that had plagued him all these endless days. For she was not his, and he wouldn't – _couldn't_ – in any other past circumstance, bring himself to touch her. Aside for the fleeting dance. But it didn't matter. The only reason he had been given that momentary reprieve of his self-implied restrictions as far as Elena was concerned was because Stefan had not been present.

Bringing himself back to the quandary at hand, Damon wished for _anything_. If only he had faith. It wasn't the he had never in fact believed in God's existence, he never had reason to think it mattered one way or another. Though, with the feeling of Elena's tiny hands grabbing the black leather of his jacket, Damon felt a frisson of hope ripple through him. This was what he needed, a reminder that he couldn't lose her, and wouldn't allow any human, monster, or force of evil take her from him. This was what was needed to bring him to the startling understanding that if Elena was to indeed loose any more of her family, whether it be Jeremy or Jenna, the brilliant flame that burned inside her would be snuffed out. And this was something that Damon would not allow either, as it was the very thing that had pierced through the layers of suffocation that had a grip on his heart. It was why Elena was his best beloved.

Elena, having just been released from the pristine and ruthless grip of Katherine's, felt like a spectator at her own funeral. The entire dour thing seemed almost to absurdly laughable. Which was probably only because she kept trying to talk herself out of being afraid. She briefly wondered what Damon did to calm his nerves. He never seemed out of control, but that was probably because he had one hundred plus years suppressing any needling emotion that reminded him of spineless humans. Katherine motioned for Damon to walk up the stairs, and as he supported Elena with his own self, going up each step, never looking over his shoulder to see what Katherine might pull next, she became increasingly terrified that what Katherine had been commanding Damon do in exchange for her life, might actually transpire.

Elena thought he wouldn't do it. She thought that Damon had another trick up his sleeve. Seeing him this way, exposed and scared, it was, in every respect, an entirely foreign experience. What he was, at least to her, was the one you would always go to in order to be reassured that everything was going to be okay. He was Damon, always confident, cool and collected, always encased with a scintillating sheen of agility and perspicacity. If you were someone he cared for or felt was at least relevant, you always felt safe in his presence. He was someone who's hard shelled exterior, that seemingly could never be penetrated, put others at ease, as Damon seemed to be able to take on the mass of the world with only his sheer force of will.

However, once the three had entered Jeremy's bedroom, with the young boy laying unconscious on the bed, and Damon motioned for Katherine to take Elena from him (knowing that Elena would never agree to this willingly, she would resist with everything that she had, Damon only hoped that in hindsight she would realize there had been no other option) he knelt beside the mattress, and within one swift movement, had split the skin of his wrist and held it over Jeremy's lips to wake him. The young boys eyes fluttered open, his head cocked only ever so slightly to the side, and his lips parted as to allow the carmine liquid into his mouth. After he had drunk his fill, Damon lifted his arm up, and his wrist away from Jeremy's reach. It was, after all, just a pre-caution; Jeremy had already consumed Anna's blood. Damon could have just snapped his neck and be done with it, however he tried to convince himself that he might buy some time for... something. Although, this really was a one-way street. Do what Katherine ordered, or the woman he loved, her brother, and most assuredly himself, would die. _What colorful commentary Stefan would make at the funeral, _he thought ruefully.

Elena felt the hot tears prick at the corners of her eyes. It stung, and her chest constricted in absolute shock and horror. She wanted to somehow connect with Damon without Katherine's interference, assure him that she didn't care at all about her own well being, she could not allow her brother to be turned into what the two men she had become mercilessly entangled with were. However, there was no hope for any of that, no other option. Elena would just have to take her chances. And, as she saw Damon's long fingers splayed across Jeremy's neck, taking the shape of the oncoming chokehold, the death grip, Elena managed to squeak out one syllable; _"Please." _

Damon peered up at Elena, looked over to Katherine, and then landed his gaze on Elena again. And he wished, more than anything in that moment, to access the switch. He wished to shut of his humanity, turn of all that mattered, go back to that deep and disgusting part of himself that he had given up for _her_; and Damon almost let out a misery soaked laugh at the mere thought about how incongruous that idea was in the first place, considering that he was doing this heinous thing to Jeremy for love. The only flawless attribute a human being could posses when in its purest form.

_Forgive me. _

And with that, in one swift motion, Damon snapped Jeremy's neck.

The violent and abrupt sound of the rough _crack _was accompanied by Katherine's bell like laugh, also, as Damon released himself from his self imposed reverie, A pained grimace marring Elena's soft feature's; in a second her lips opened in a soft sob. And, hearing both conjoined seamlessly in some twisted harmony, Damon knew he was truly damned; that he would hear those haunting sounds forever in the depths of the earth, accompanied by all the goddamned orchestras in hell.

Suddenly, a faint jingle from the depths of Elena's purse which had been thrown on the floor earlier that evening, interrupted the harrowing scene in Jeremy's room, the setting for his transformation into the creature as to which he would undoubtedly become. Katherine, being the only one not affected at all by what had just transpired, although thoroughly amused, picked up the purse from the floor and, after shuffling through it's few contents, found Elena's cell phone; the screen reading in small, black pixilated letters "Stefan."

Katherine picked up the phone in glee.

The voice on the other end was as controlled and calm as they come, with a hint of worry, suppressed of course, as Stefan was always the one to hide everything dreadful away, which he always cracked up to being 'only for the best' for any one single person involved with him. After all, he was trying to be the model of a perfect boyfriend, or one as good as they come; at times did it really matter if he found himself tangled in his own web spun of half lies spurned from good intentions?

"Elena. Well, I have some good news. Although Caroline isn't doing as well as we would have hoped given the accident, there is a bit of internal bleeding. But, nothing that can't be fixed with a little medical assistance. It's all perfectly fine considering the extent of the wreck her and Matt were in. Speaking of Matt, he's here with the Sheriff in the waiting room. I can come and pick you up as soon as you need me to be there. Which I assume would be just about now."

"Is this Stefan?" _Dear, delectable Stefan._ Katherine was unbelievably pleased. "And, yes, dear-heart, it would be rather convenient and just wonderful if you could show up here in just a bit."

"Katherine?"

With the word of realization on Stefan's trembling lips, Katherine closed the phone shut. Looking at a despondent Damon and hysterical Elena, and a newly turned young vampire on the downy bed, there really was only one thing for the female vampire to say.

"Considering we have another person joining our party, let's take this show downstairs to the living room, shall we?"

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Stefan was not in, what some may refer to, as the most quintessential position. Hearing Katherine's voice was a rather grievous experience as it had the same tone as Elena's, though with a slightly different timbre. It was as if you had a beautiful orchestral piece, and two violinists, each with their own interpretation of how to play the notes. That's what Katherine and Elena were; two beautiful women, with the voice, eyes, lips all similar, but Katherine on the other hand, in all her godlessly horrendous glory, of course, was in stark contrast to Elena, who's sweet and philanthropic nature brought nothing but warmth.

And Stefan was not prepared in any way, shape, or form, to confront the mysterious woman of his past; the one who spawned an obsession that had spanned a century, one that only Elena could crack. Which is why, after observing the young schoolgirl for that single year before they had finally met inside the hallway's of the high-school, he had been convinced that Elena was the one he would undoubtedly live and breathe for what would be the rest of his eternity.

That evening the surroundings that encircled him were violet and green trees, the moonlight playing of the leaves and creating different gradations of black and other nebulous shades. Putting his foot up on the front step to the door to the Gilbert's house, Stefan could hear the sound of the ground give out ever so slightly beneath him, giving a tiny _squeak_. And, as that exact sound diminished, the door seemed to open all upon itself but, on second glance when Stefan looked to his right, Damon's hand was on the handle, moving the hinges to the side as to give the door movement, with Katherine looking on intensely from inside the house.

Stefan felt a low rumble erupt in his chest when he laid eyes upon Elena, who Damon had gone up to straight after opening the door, trying to take her hand in his own. It was not jealousy that erupted within the younger brother, no. It was worry as he could see Elena near the point of breaking apart; as she had that day he had revealed to her the origin of her true parentage, after the road-trip with Damon. And he could see that the gestures of his brother, trying to hold Elena's hand or put a reassuring hand on small of her back, were entirely innocent in their efforts, though Elena rebuked them. And Stefan could not help but wonder why.

"Did you hurt her?" He asked, turning to Katherine. "She has absolutely nothing to do with any of this!"

"Oh, Stefan… Stefan. Still _whining_ Stefan."

Katherine turned over to look at Elena, whose was now composed to the best of her ability on the arm of the leather couch located in the alcove near the kitchen where a pool of John's blood seeped into the fibers of the carpet, behind her boyfriend and the woman holding them. The girl's cheeks were a ruddy red color, with track marks created from the tears she had shed earlier up in her brothers room imprinted on her face, her eyes drooping, the lids closing ever so slightly as if there were tiny weights attached to them, before Elena would try her best to open them back up again, trying to stay alert. In all honesty, she was so terribly drained; all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and fall into a long sleep.

"Have you heard enough? I've had to listen to _that__ for centuries._" Katherine ever so slightly clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, putting a certain emphasis on the last bit of the phrase she spoke to Elena in such a deriding tone; which evoked a pair of surprised faces on both the Salvatore brothers.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

Stefan's breath hitched in his throat as the question was unceremoniously chocked out, left hanging in the air; the only thing that could compete with the ugly silence that transpired over the last several minutes of that time was the expression of Damon. As he had told Stefan earlier, he was the only one in the room at any given time to put two and two together.

"_Christ_," he breathed, "This entire time?"

Katherine giggled, as she nodded ferociously and Stefan become aware of what his brother was implying, and what Katherine confirmed in the passing confession "Why, since the beginning of course. Ever since Stefan began his little avocation with young Elena here. I remember in thinking that in his so called 'courtship' of her, he needed hindrances. If he had to climb over enough of them, he might inadvertently fall on top of her."

Stefan's breath hitched in his throat, the rage was boiling at a fever pitch "_You_…"

"Now, now Stefan," Katherine looked over at him with a mixture of disdain, amusement, and disappointment "Finally all making sense to you? I should have known from the first disastrous time I met you, like most intellectuals you are intensely stupid."

The younger Salvatore brother took a step back, no rather stumbled, near the couch to where Elena sat. While Elena, was completely flustered at the amount of information she was taking in at this incredibly fast rate. And, in a sudden moment that she couldn't really explain, the only coherent thought she could put together for a brief period was the question of how Damon was doing, what he was feeling. Katherine continued in her way to divulge her story to the rest of the group, seeming to entirely pleased to get everything out in the open.

"Did you really think that everything that has transpired over the past year or so has really been the work of chance or fate, pulling at the seams of the three of your destinies? No, there is no such thing as a trivial element of chance, there is only do or don't, and, in the case of all of you, it's been me pulling the strings of this dull little party. I mean, Stefan did you really believe that those insipid vampires could come up with such a fine and apt kidnapping as the one that took place with yourself in the woods? Who do you think orchestrated their movements, assigned them their target? After all, I only wanted to remind you of who you were and are. I knew that so many years without the _real_ thing, not that dilute and sour substitute you unceremoniously suck from the throats of dirty animals, could do a number or two on your head. And I knew, with how devoted your dear Elena was to you, that she would offer her blood to you in an instant. But, what I _didn't _count on was this little brat and your brother to make sure you hopped back on the wagon. All I want is a little recognition for all the trouble and hard work I've put into this entire thing, just for it to chock up to be a piece of only mildly amusing entertainment."

Stefan stared at her dumbfounded and Damon went up to Katherine so that his face was only several inches from her own. And he could see the lines form elegantly around the edges of her bow shaped mouth; she was enjoying this. But, after all that was no surprise. What came as a surprise to Damon was that he actually considered in that moment, besides slapping her hard across the face and relishing the feeling of his palm come in direct contact with her cheek to make her feel some sort of pain, embracing her and pulling her to him. Coming to the revelation that even after everything that had happened this evening, after what she had done to Elena and to himself, and what she had revealed to have done to Stefan, he desired some sense of closure. His desperate search for her had outlasted a century, and even after discovering she had betrayed him, he could not shake an evil spell. His ardor for Katherine seemed to be a part of the velvet sky and giant trees that would loom over his head every night, as he would walk among the nature of the town. But, it was not part of any one place. It was in him, every part of him. And with every remembrance of Katherine's brittle malice, it shot through his veins like a foreboding.

"I want you to tell me, in a very succinct fashion, ignoring any embellishments or adjectives, exactly how I come into this equation of yours, this 'entertainment'. I want the entire truth Katherine, plain and simple," Damon said to her, all at once softening his tone before finishing his sentence, reminding himself that he was really in no position to command her if he wanted to get what he was asking for, "And you will tell me."

Katherine gave a little shrug, her eyes glittering.

"_You_," she said, her voice whispering in what could be considered an almost sentimental tone if she even had a soul, "broke my heart. Have you ever considered all the countless hours that I spent relishing in what you were? That naivety was so appealing you have no idea. There is something profoundly attractive about that sort of innocence. It needs to be… violated. With you, dear-heart I saw astonishing potential. You became my protégé. Our 'relationship', as you have so often referred to it as, was a training ground for teasing out the truth inside you, what you truly are and always will be… _a killer_."

Damon was taken aback by those words, choking out a single syllable, "No."

"Yes, Damon. If not how could you have bended and acceded to that side of yourself so willingly? Thinking me dead, you embraced your true nature. The primal force that resides inside you was released. Let the rest of it go, forfeit these ridiculous mortal sensibilities that have bound you recently, as you have done in the past. Only then can you know boundless power. It's your decision."

Damon looked at her questionably "I have a choice to make?"

"Why yes," said Katherine, making her way to the front door, "Since I can no longer have the both of you, since the future between the three of us that I have tried to secure has been demolished by Stefan's feeble-mindedness and your new sentiments, the only one who is not to far gone is you."

Standing by the door, the deceitful mistress looked at him with puzzling secrets whirling about the pools of her eyes, "I still adore you, you see. Even with all your faults and my complaints. As I have disclosed, it's your choice. You will know where to find me."

And with that, she was gone.

The words of Katherine rang in Damon's ears like a siren. There was nothing but a raw silence that distilled amidst the core group of Stefan, Elena, and Damon. The older brother stood next to the door where Katherine had left, seeming sober though touched with a slight fear. The first thing Stefan did, however, was walked straight up to Elena, whose shoulders were shaking as she had begun to cry, and drew her into his arms. Because, she would only have him at that moment.

"Stefan, I need you to please go upstairs," Elena breathed into his shoulder.

"Would you not like me to stay with you? You haven't even told me what Katherine has done to you." Elena nearly laughed at the irony of Stefan's sentence, for Katherine had not harmed her only because Damon had performed the service for which had saved her life, and the one she begged him not to go through with.

"Damon didn't allow it. There was a price, though."

Stefan looked at her, perplexed.

"What price?"

"Just go and check on Jeremy. Please."

Without waiting for anymore of Elena's protests, and wanting more than anything to please her after what they had just been through, Stefan put a finger to her lips, simply nodded, and made his way up the stairs so that the only two left in the living area were Elena and Damon.

The space between them was nothing more than several steps across the hard wood floor, but the air about it was also rife and heavy with regret, melancholy, concern, and above all, a feeling of rapture from Damon's side that had been all to convulsed with his own self-loathing. And Elena, her face flashing with a soft tragedy, was feeling a bit out of focus, and out of body. She sat back into the couch and could see Damon close the space between them, she sensed the sinking of the seat next to her as he sat down beside her, she could feel tiniest jab of abhorrence, but she was also aware of gratitude, for she was happy to be alive. And, Elena heard the soft resonant flow of Damon's words. A caress. His face was all a dull silver blaze before her, as often it had happen in the afternoon outside her school Elena would see the sun was at its height.

"I tried…" he started, his face crestfallen "…to do something. I thought… I could perhaps…."

Elena's eyes flickered up to Damon's face as she was finally able to comprehend the letters and words that flowed out of his mouth like an oasis in the desert. Her lips parted and of layer of her casing dissolved, and the sentences that came out of her mouth next were not even thought out properly, nor did she think of the ramifications. "I know you did. I – but I can't. I'm so sorry Damon. _I'm so, so sorry._ But, please, if you could just…" She stopped then, pausing, and swallowed absent-mindedly, "… leave. Please. I just can't be around- be around _you_ right now."

Damon nodded curtly, and sat up from the couch, moving from Elena's warmth in a quick stride while the fingers of his left hand worked nervously through his hair. He thought for a moment, if such strain in one's mind can be called thought, and then he drew a picture in the notebook of his mind, with a filigree border, and a rectangular jewel in the center made up of the girl with the raven hair and the vervain necklace hanging from the silver chain around her neck. He drew it in the way he would have drawn an architectural design when he spent his time in Rome in the 40's, with the very clean, straight lines and slightly shaded detail. And then he shut the book closed.

Damon Salvatore had accessed the switch, and in one second he turned it off, asserting his power.

* * *

Around 1 A.M. in the morning, Mystic Falls was still sinfully dark, cloaking any mysterious happening that just happened to pass in the secluded town, save bluish lights from the street lamps and from the TV's in the living room's of oblivious families, shining outwardly through the damp windows moist with fog.

Through these lights led Damon to a town house on the outskirts of the town, hidden by a row of pine trees and cyprus bushes. Coming up on it, he could see through the clear, unadorned windows the same bluish lights, only holding a more sinister gleam, like the one's from downtown San Francisco, like a constellation burning through the thin fog.

Knocking on the door and having it opened, he was greeted with an image from his childhood; Miss Havisham, a wraith in a wedding dress from his beloved _Great Expectations_ that his father read to him as a child. Katherine Pierce was dressed in a thin white night-slip, her hair hanging rather wildly over her shoulders and chest.

"Damon_._ Welcome home."

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**Ruh-roh. It appears Damon has surrendered back over to the dark side. How far will he go? Only time will tell. ;)**

**And now I am off to write some more for this story because my poor self just can't stomach two more months and counting without my beloved TVD. ~ le sigh. ~**

**Now, if you could click that little button and review this chapter, it will make my musie extremely happy! Okay? Okay! :)**


	3. Authors Note, Forthcoming Chapters

**Authors Note:**

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First off, thank you for all the wonderful reviews!

Okay, so I know that I haven't updated in several months. I was wondering if I should have continued the story, as my muse was being occupied with my own original novel that I'm working on at the moment, but this plot just wont stop eating away at me. As I've stated before, the entire story is planned out distinctly in six parts – with each entry carefully planned out and ending on a turning point for each character, as well as each chapter centering around a certain individual. For example: Chapter One was Damon's chapter, Chapter Two was with a focus on the Damon/Elena relationship, and this upcoming chapter will focus on Katherine and her agenda.

I already have the first part of the upcoming chapter written and edited, so I'm wondering- would you like faster updates with shorter chapters (i.e. I could publish what I have so far written) when I have the time, or should I upload less frequently and with much longer chapters? Which would you prefer? Let me know. :)


	4. The Circumference I

**Title:** Incipit Vita Nova

**Chapter:** 3/6

**Section:** The Circumference of Mortality and Morality (I - Neither a Worthless Animal Nor Man, but Certainly Damned.)

**Plot: **Damon considers how he became a vampire at the hands of the radiant and sinister Katherine and how he became indoctrinated, unwillingly, into the vampire way of life by his younger brother, Stefan. After centuries of carnage trying to retrieve Katherine from the tomb, only to discover she never cared; defining crucial moments mark the return of his humanity, such as his meeting with the exquisite Elena, who has a passion, will and intelligence that intrigues him. He falls in love with her, wanting not to hurt but to comfort her with the last breaths of humanity he has inside.

But, with the return of the maniacal Katherine, Damon and Elena find themselves wrought in present dangers they scarcely imagined.

Set directly after _Founder's Day_, the Season One Finale.

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**Author's Note:**

**As it turned out, everyone wanted me to break the chapters up, hence so I could update faster, so here you go! Your wish is my command. :)**

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_I began to speak to him so: 'Lord of nobility, why do you weep?' And he said these words to me:_

'_Ego tanquam centrum circuli, cui simili modo se hadent circumferentiae partes: tu autem non sic: __I am as the centre of a circle, to which the parts of the circumference have a similar relation: you however are not so.'_

_

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_

Elena Gilbert. That was the name of his brother's current nostalgic infatuation. She was eighteen or nineteen, judging by her narrow frame and the way she sauntered across the sidewalk on her way to whatever store or shop she was currently visiting; completely unburdened by any extra weight on her shoulders, no loss of innocence or extraordinary pain had penetrated deep enough to puncture her carefree standing. Or, maybe she was just a very good actress. She drove a plum Saturn coupe that appeared as though it had seen better days, and a bumper sticker that screamed BREATHE in bold lettering and all capitals. It always seemed surprising to Damon just how much you could learn about a person from a distance, translate their character or spirit even, taken aback by the impressions that you formed. He had been tailing her for the past 24 hours, since he had recognized how she was the only thing to direct Stefan's eye, when he had arrived to his hometown on Thursday. Watching her from afar, it had raised so many questions. He was curious about her now. And then there was a special wonder that emanated beneath the mounds of white plastic and brash metal that bound a certain switch, what she would look like up close.

When he had been up close, Damon could make out the darker roots of her hair that had been treated to look almost like a honey brown, though it was naturally probably closer to black. She would sit with a leather bound book at the foot of her twin graves of her parent's, never really here nor there, she seemed caught up in a rut between space and time. She would usually rub her booties together and tug her legs all the way up to her chest when she got chilly, her shoulders would bunch, and her arms crossed high on her chest. And Damon would stand there behind the statue of the archangel Gabriel, wiping a mustache of sweat off his upper lip. _You had a couple glances. Your flirtation with danger, you got that out of your system. Now, GET OUT._ And then he would shuffle his feet, needing to leave. Never making up his mind. And, then he met her face to face several days later. Observing her as a means to get to Stefan was one thing, but actually _talking_ to her, that threw a monkey wrench of uncertainty Damon's way, because he had begun to regard Elena Gilbert as more than a pawn. And now he was fucked.

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Lying curled up on the maroon cushions which embellished the oriental sofa that stretched along the span of half the wall which was lacquered in a rustic brown wallpaper, Damon's eyes rolled back under his closed eyelids, the haze of sleep still wearing ever so slowly off. Opening his eyes slowly, only the whites exposed as his pupils lingered off in the back of his cranium, Damon swung his legs unto the floor and then looked at himself in the mirror that was so conveniently placed right on the other wall in front of him. He felt the switch's effectiveness wearing off, disobeying him. The film over his eyes dissolved, and all Damon could see was a mess of thick black hair and the mask of a face without a purpose, encasing a bout of bubbling chaos.

_Fucking trash. _

Pulling himself away from his reverie of self -loathing, Damon saw Katherine's reflection in the mirror, her form appearing through the slit of a closed door leading to the master bedroom, lounging on the white mattress.

She looked straight at him. "Come in here."

Stepping up from the couch, Damon moved unto Katherine's white tile landing. He entered the room non-chalantly, not looking at her, refusing to be reduced to nothing more than an adoring puppy before ten in the morning. "Kick of your shoes," she said, all business, pointing him ahead to the vast bathroom. "Hang your jacket in the shower."

In damp socks, Damon padded over to the cream-carpeted bathroom and then to the front of the shower, isolated by a square of black tile surrounding it.

"Don't judge," Katherine's voice traveled from the bedroom "I got the place for cheap. The rates are pathetic, which is good considering that I didn't have to kill anyone to move in, even though this slum is an insult to my tastes. Oh, well. Must not draw to much attention to ourselves…"

Damon didn't say anything. He peeled of his jacket and draped it over the curtain rod, the black shower curtain billowing, the sash of the frosted glass window clinking and crackling as Damon turned the knob and the shower head spurted out a flow of water which hit the glass and tile with lazy precision. Katherine came in from the bedroom, and made a move to toss him a clean, mocha colored towel- then held back, holding it hostage. "… But you learned all that from me haven't you?" She stated, finishing her explanation from before of keeping a low profile.

"I suppose so." Damon made a lounge for the towel; effectively grabbing it's fuzzy warmth from her. "Now," he said before she could get in anything else edge-wise, "Get out."

Katherine looked at him for a moment. A beat. Then, she calmly brushed a piece of hair behind her ear and made her way to the door as Damon pulled his shirt up over his head. She was _pissed_. And he couldn't bring himself to care. She would probably find a way to make him pay, later.

"Just so you know," Katherine called back, "We are going out later. I'm in the mood for a little show tonight." And, as the water hit him square with harsh force on his bare back, Damon smiled to himself.

_That's you, always hardwired for action. _

Grabbing the container of soap from it's perch on a slab of white tile lodged into the side of the shower, Damon squirted a quarter's worth of it into his hand, and then washed himself with such a ferocity as the slosh of residue ran down into the drain, as if he were trying to shed his own criminal skin.

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_**I know, I know it is crazy short. But, it seemed logical to end this section at this point. Next entry will be much, much longer. Promise. :)**_

_**Now, go and feed my muse by clicking that review button and giving me some critical feedback! It always helps the plot bunnies and does wonderful things for my ego. lol ;)**_


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